


and you shall receive

by olavidalo



Series: 1. 2. 3. [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - High School, Ambiguous Relationships, Dubious Consent, M/M, Misunderstandings, Powerplay, Shaming of Some Sort, fluff?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-28
Updated: 2013-06-28
Packaged: 2017-12-16 09:56:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/860819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/olavidalo/pseuds/olavidalo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's only natural that Zayn would be smitten.</p>
            </blockquote>





	and you shall receive

**Author's Note:**

> All lies. Un-beta'ed, un-britpicked lies.

'Can you imagine?' says Louis, once, when they're drunk, 'having to do whatever someone else told you to?' He shudders. 'Horrible.'  
  
Zayn, passed out on Harry's lap, nuzzles closer. Just like Harry wanted him to.  
  
'Horrible,' he echoes, swallowing thickly.

 

* * *

 

Harry knows Louis doesn't think any less of Zayn, is, in fact, quite protective over him. The problem is that he seems to forget that Zayn's-- _different_. Leads him on, sort of: ruffling his hair, ordering him about, giving him lots of compliments and hugs whenever Zayn gives in.  
  
It's only natural that Zayn would be smitten.  
  
'Zayn, let me copy you,' Louis says absently, staring down at his mobile. He's been texting Eleanor all through lunch. Zayn huffs out a sigh but dutifully slides his essay past his tray. 'There's a lad,' Louis says, and gives him a big smacking kiss on his cheek - on his jaw, almost. Harry's the one who gets to watch Zayn struggle to fight back a smile.  
  
'Let me copy it afterwards,' Harry says, well, asks, really, even though he already finished his paper two days ago.  
  
Zayn blinks at him, startled. 'Uh,' he says, 'okay.' He glances at Louis, who's put his mobile down and is now looking at Harry.  
   
'Don't be rude, Harry,' Louis says lightly. 'Aren't you forgetting something?'  
  
His mobile buzzes; Zayn ducks his head. Harry squashes a wave of anger and bumps his feet against Zayn's. Zayn scoots back, closer to Louis.

Doesn't even look at him.  
  
'Yea,' Harry answers, trying to clear the haze of irritation clouding everything. 'Let me copy it now, Zayn.'  
  
'Alright, okay,' Zayn mutters, blushing, sliding his essay across the table. Louis glares between the two of them, like he's not sure which of them to be more upset at. But then he's distracted by his mobile buzzing again.  
  
'Thank you, Zayn,' Harry says, warmly. He smiles very sincerely, so his dimples show.  
  
'S'nothin',' says Zayn, scowling down at the table.  
  
'It's not nothing,' Harry insists, wanting to get a smile out of him, as only Louis can, these days. 'I'm shit at Lit--' he's not '--and getting help from the cleverest guy in class can only--'  
  
Zayn stands up suddenly. 'S'cuse me,' he mumbles, 'I have to--' Run out of the cafeteria, apparently.  
  
Well. That went well. Harry turns back from staring after Zayn to find Louis glowering at him.  
  
'Don't fucking tease him, Harry,' he says, 'it's not funny, you know how he is over you--'  
  
'How he is over _me_?' Harry parrots, incredulously. Zayn's the one who can't even stand to look at him; Harry's _been_ patient. He's given him his space, he's waited for him to tell him what's been bothering him, to let him in. And Zayn's given him nothing. He's been too busy pining over _Louis_.  
  
'--and if you're doing this just as a joke,' Louis says, louder than Harry, and faster, too, 'I'll tell Doniya on you.'  
  
Harry knows he should be happy that Louis cares so much about Zayn's well-being. If he were a better friend, he would be.

He's not.  
  
'Maybe I'll tell Doniya on _you_ ,' he murmurs, furious, 'how you kiss Zayn and hug him and always tell him what to do, even though you're already Eleanor's.' It's only because Harry's had so much practise holding himself back that he manages not to kick him.  
  
Louis shows no such restraint. 'You idiot,' he says, as Harry hisses in pain, 'if Zayn was into me, do you really think I'd be sat here texting someone else?'

 

* * *

 

Harry gets home just before sixth period starts. Atop his bed, Zayn's fast asleep. It's a scene Harry's so familiar with, but hasn't seen in so long, that he has to stop himself from waking him up.  
  
Zayn used to come over all the time. But then they met Louis in year ten -- funny, loud and assertive Louis, completely unlike Harry -- and he stopped. Harry used to think it must've been love at first sight for Zayn. But now that he thinks on it - Gem was around 14 when Mum started insisting she leave her door open whenever Nancy came over. Maybe, he thinks, heart pounding dizzyingly in his ears, maybe Zayn's mum had told him something similar.  
  
She did use to say 'Reign it in, sweetheart' whenever Zayn would do or say something around Harry that might be seen as -- provocative. She really might not've bothered; Harry found everything Zayn did provocative. And maybe she could tell, after awhile - she'd stopped teasing him whenever he came over after year ten too, and started looking at him like an oldhead who knew all your tricks, and wasn't particularly impressed. Maybe she'd told Zayn not to go to Harry's house alone, so Harry never had the chance to try anything cheeky.  
  
\--And maybe Zayn's just upset that one of his oldest friends tried to make a claim for him in public and came over to demand an apology.  
  
 _You know how he is over you_.

Harry doesn't, though; hasn't for quite some time.

He wishes Zayn were awake. _Wake up_ , he thinks, still frozen in the doorway, _wakeupwakeupwakeup_.  
  
Zayn shifts in his sleep, just so. A shaft of sunlight moves across his face. He furrows his brow, slowly blinks awake.  
  
'Harry,' he rasps, seeing him. 'You're home.'  
  
Fancy meeting you here, Harry means to say. Sorry about lunch, Harry means to say.  
  
'Tell me,' he says, or means to, but his voice lilts up at the end embarrassingly anyway. He couldn't be less like Louis if he tried.  
  
Zayn rolls his head to the side, baring his neck, just slightly. 'It's you,' he sighs, closing his eyes and pinching his lips together. ''M sorry, bro. It's you.'  
  
Harry remembers his legs exist only when they carry him across the room. 'Hey, don't apologise,' he says, low, leaning over him. 'That's good.' Everything around him is blurry except for Zayn's eyes when he looks up at him. God, Harry's gonna be a sap just like Gem predicted. Zayn doesn't move a muscle when Harry climbs up onto the bed with him. 'Really, really good.'  
  
'Yea?' Zayn asks, unfreezing only when Harry nuzzles his neck. It's been so _long_ : good's too weak a word for it.  
  
'Yea,' he answers. He presses a small kiss to Zayn's jaw, erases the memory of Louis doing the same. 'Yea.'


End file.
